Cramps And Other Universal Truths
by Ziver69
Summary: Revised from and earlier works. I combined the three stories into one and also made some changes and editions. Summary: Unrequited love is hard enough to deal with, especially when you also work with the man, add in hormones, a back ache and a near kiss...you've got one irritated woman who's about to lay some truth on Grissom he wasn't ready to hear.


I've done some editing and re-writing, combining the three parts into one story. I hope it's just as entertaining as the origional, if not more so. There was nothing glaringly inappropriate, but as my faith in God grows, the more I want to know that even if I don't bring God glory in what I write, that at the very least, I don't dishonor him in any way. There is a reference to The Wizard of Oz, I own nothing from that show.

 **~~Cramps and Other Universal Truths~~**

It was a dark night. The moon continued to play peek-a-boo, drifting in and out from behind the clouds above. And the terrain was uneven, so really, it wasn't his fault. He'd been a gentleman, hadn't he? When her flashlight had suddenly gone black, he'd given her his...trusted her to lead him through the darkness. That had to count for something, right? And it wasn't his fault that she hadn't packed a spare bulb to replace her own. It was every CSI's responsibility to insure that their kits were packed with all necessary equipment. Honestly, if you took that into consideration, it was _he_ who should be miffed with _her_. So, it wasn't his fault, he reassured himself, mentally licking his wounds as they made their way onward toward the crime scene. Except that it _was_ his fault, and he knew it.

One minute she was cautiously picking her way over wobbly rocks and uneven ground and the next she was smacked into from behind. Alright, so she _had_ stopped abruptly and it _was_ dark and he _had_ given her his flashlight so his path wasn't as clear as it could have been, but _surely_ his night vision had kicked in by then.

It probably had an uncanny resemblence to a slow motion comedy clip, but it would be quite some time before she could look back on it and crack a smile. The bump from behind startled her without question, and she may or may not have sqwacked a little something that sounded like a cross between a frightened chicken and an angry goose, but it would have ended there if it hadn't been for her trying to spin around to glare at him. That was really when the slow motion portion of the night started. As Sara twisted to fix Grissom with a glare that she could only hope would burn through the darkness and straight into his thick skull, the rock she was standing on shifted. She lurched backwards and did what any reasonable, self preserving human would do; she blindly reached for the closest source of stability. But once again, Grissom let her down; this time literally. Apparently, she hadn't been the only one not exactly secure in their footing, for when she managed to grab the front of his CSI windbreaker, instead of holding her up, he followed her down.

He'd had the control to move his body so he didn't land on her, but managed instead to fall beside her. His knee wasn't going to be on speaking terms with him anytime soon, but at least he hadn't hurt her.

"Sara, are you alright?" he'd asked, slightly out of breath. His knee was throbbing already and he only hoped he would be able to stand.

"Yeah." She groaned, taking mental stock that nothing felt broken or sprained. Sore and with sureness that there would be bruising, but nothing warranting anything more than a little extra time in a bubble bath after shift.

"Do you think you can stand?"

"Yeah."

She moved at the same time that he moved and suddenly they were nose to nose. He felt his pulse thrum in his throat as his gaze darted from her lips to her eyes and back to her lips. It would be so easy...so easy to just lean a fraction of an inch and do what he'd been dreaming of doing for years now.

His eyes started to close and Sara's heart stilled in her chest as his face crept closer and closer...Grissom was going to kiss her. Scared. Elated. Nervous. Everything in a fraction of a second and she barely had time to wet her dry lips before he...shot back like he was on fire?! _No! No, no, no! Seriously?!_

"I'm so sorry, Sara." he blustered, stumbling all over himself as he stood up. "I shouldn't have...I mean it wasn't my intention to..."

Mad didn't begin to describe her state of mind. She picked herself up roughly and didn't even bother to dust herself off. "Oh, don't worry Grissom, it's become painfully obvious over the years that you have no _intentions_ to, but maybe never more so than tonight when you clearly lost your sanity for a moment and almost committed the crime of actually following your feelings! But no worries, boss! Sara the yo-yo has thick skin!" she barked, reaching down and snatching the flashlight up.

But before she could re-embark on their journey, he grabbed her arm. "Sara...what do you want from me? I'm trying to apologize for-"

She glared with every ounce of hurt and embarrassed rage she felt right now, backed up by years of unrequieted love, longing and heartache courtesy of one Dr. Gilbert Grissom. "What do I want, Grissom?! To not be treated like an idiot, or some love sick teenager with a crush who doesn't know what she really feels, wants or needs! I know! Maybe you don't but I do, and if you can't figure it out then leave me alone in every fashion besides the professional setting we need to be in because I am tired of it! My heart hurts, Grissom and tonight so does my back and my uterus! So kiss me or give me a Midol and some chocolate or get the heck out of my way, but don't jerk me around because I am not in the mood tonight!"

All she received was his standard blank and baffled look and some ill timed blinks. So with a huff, she turned and marched away...with his flashlight! Let the moon guide him!

 **~~CAOUT~~**

She was taking her demand to be left alone in any capacity other than professionally quite seriously. She'd ignored his every effort to engage her all through the investigation unless it directly related to it. It had been disheartening while they collected evidence; it was tedious and grew into annoying on the seventy-two minute drive back to the lab, and now, coming onto a new shift and still being ignored, it was just plain ticking him off!

He passed out assignments, keeping her in the lab to work on paperwork, knowing how much she despised that. Such adolescent behavior should have shamed him and made him feel petty, but in his opinion she was being petty and she'd started it so, one reaps what one sows. Besides, he consoled that small part of himself suffering from feelings resembling that of shame from said behavior with the facts; she was last on the list to be called out tonight, it was a slow shift and she had reports that needed to be finalized before he could approve them. It was justified...kind of.

Did she just not consider what this might be like for him?! To be his age and have his track record with women?! Or was it just supposed to be as easy for him as she made it appear it was for her? "I guess I'm supposed to throw all caution to the wind and we can just live on love alone!" he muttered angrily to himself. He flipped to the next page of the report he was reading, jerking his finger back and immediately putting it in his mouth when he felt it slice through his skin.

"That's not a healthy first aid method. You can introduce the germs in your mouth to the cut as well as any germs on your finger into your mouth."

He 'd been so focused on being irritated with her, he'd failed to notice she'd entered his office. _Guess it's a good thing I didn't introduce my tongue into your mouth like you wanted then, huh, if my mouth is such a cesspool,_ he thought. What he said was, "Neither my finger nor my mouth has come into contact with anything too grotesque recently so I'll take my chances, but should I keel over in the next few days, feel free to have "I told him so" etched on my headstone. But, isn't this crossing into the realm of "personal" conversation?"

Her shoulders tensed and her back went ramrod straight as she snapped back into "mad Sara" mode. She marched to his desk, and nearly divorced his nose from his face slamming the files in her hand onto his desk, effectively banishing the momentary regret he'd felt a second ago for his snide remarks.

His eyes lifted, peering at her from beneath the rims of his glasses, and she met his gaze defiantly. When he failed to react any further, she turned on her heels and stomped back toward his open door. "Greg could use some help with inventory so if anything comes in, that's where you can find me." She informed him.

"Sara." He called calmly.

She stopped but didn't turn around.

"Are these _all_ your reports? This stack looks a little light?" He knew she had five and a quick glance told him only three lay before him. He watched her back go rigid again...well, more rigid, but still, she refused to turn around.

"The Casey and Reynolds cases still need finalized, but that will only take about an hour. It's all minor." She replied through gritted teeth.

"Good. Then you may assist Greg in doing _his_ job when you're done with _yours_...in about an hour."

She spun to face him, fire blazing in her brown eyes. "Are you kidding me right now?!"

"I assure you, Miss Sidle, I am not." He told her, still cool as a cucumber. _You want professional only, baby? I've got professional coming out my ears!_

"Grissom!" She sputtered in outrage. "You know I get my reports to you on time and they rarely need revisement! You're only doing this because you're-"

"Careful, Miss Sidle." He interrupted, his voice now relaying his own anger. "You requested purely professionally based interactions."

"Now you're granting requests?!" She barked, knowing he knew full well that she was referring to yesterday and all the other times she'd made her wants for them known. "Fine." She huffed when his eyes narrowed at her tone. "Reports and then Greg." She turned once more, heading for the hall.

He opened his drawer and reached inside, quickly snatching his prize and calling her name right before she reached his open door.

She turned angrily, wondering what he wanted now, just in time to see him toss something to her. By instinct, her hand shot up and she snatched it out of the air. When her eyes registered what she was holding, she slowly focused back on him as her blood boiled in her veins.

He knew if looks could kill, he'd be on Al's table right now sporting a Y incision and a brand new toe tag.

"How very professional of you, Dr. Grissom." She spat with venom. She dropped the bottle of Midol with the two fun sized Hershey chocolate bars rubber-banded to it in the trashcan beside her before she exited his office and strode with fire down the hall.

The woman was infuriating! And she was also utterly stunning even when she looked ready to tear him apart.

 _ **~~CAOUT~~**_

Greg's gaze slowly and cautiously shifted from one break room companion to the other. If he could have teleported himself to anywhere but where he was right now, he would have been clicking his ruby red shoes together toot sweet. Considering that lunching with the lovely Sara Sidle was normally the equivalent to winning the lottery in his eyes, it spokes volumes to the tension in the room that he would have walked across hot coals with bare feet soaked in gasoline to escape this room at present.

As was typical, but not discouraging enough to end his hopeful pursuit of her, she only had eyes for Grissom. Though, the looks she was giving him tonight was enough to make Greg afraid...very afraid. Grissom, however, seemed oblivious to the murderous looks being directed at him. In fact, the man in question smiled quite widely at his dinner companions and took a rather huge bite of his greasy cheeseburger. A soft 'mmm' left his lips as a glob of cheese or mayo, Greg wasn't sure which, oozed from the sandwich and landed with a muted 'plop' on the wrapper spread below.

"Disgusting." Sara muttered.

"I'm sorry?" Grissom asked once he'd swallowed.

"I said I'm sure your physician lives rather comfortably." She replied snidely.

 _Ouch_. Greg wondered for the hundredth time since they entered the breakroom, what had set these two off on each other. It wasn't unusual for the tension between them to be thick enough to cut, as much as he didn't like to admit it, everyone knew that Grissom and Sara had a _thang_ for each other that they just wouldn't give in to and it caused some major friction on a lot of nights. This seemed _way_ different.

"Sorry to interrupt your lunch-" Ecklie entered the room and began, only to be interrupted by Greg.

"Don't be!" Greg jumped up. "Duty calls. Thanks for the help, Sara."

Ecklie, Grissom and Sara watched as Greg exited at an alarming speed.

"Oookay. As I was saying, sorry to interrupt your lunch but a case just came in and I need both of you on it."

"Both of us?" Grissom questioned, hoping he'd heard wrong. _You don't lock yourself in a closet with the bear you'd just spent the last few hours poking._

"Body of a college student found in a professor's bedroom...well, his master bath, but still. A very well known and beloved professor." Ecklie emphasized.

Grissom merely raised an eyebrow.

"Grissom." Ecklie sighed. "It's going to be a high profile case and Dr. Rashon is a friend of the Sheriff's wife. He wants you overseeing and no, before you get yourself in a wad, it's not because Sidle isn't capable. He specifically said he didn't care who was working it, you were to be primary." He grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table as he shot Grissom a snarky smile. "Look at it this way, Grissom; you get out of the budget meeting. Judy has the address."

 _ **~~CAOUT~~**_

The first five minutes of the eighteen minute drive to Summerlin was tense and quiet; not surprising considering the last forty-eight hours.

Sara very muh wanted to exude an air of nonchalance, but was really struggling to pull it off. Things had been tense between them before. They'd gone through times when their friendship was strained by the sometimes torrential, but always steadily, flowing river that was the romantic undercurrent in their lives. Never had it been like this though. She'd never blown up at him quite so passionately or bluntly. He'd never been so direct in his reaction and post confrontation behavior. And to top it all off, she was extremely emotional with this cycle!

That little voice in her head kept telling her to stay quiet; that things were tense enough already, but at eight minutes into the drive, she decided to ignore it. "Is giving in and trying a relationship with me really such a terrible prospect?"

"Sara." He exhaled long and deep. "Now is really not the time." His grip on the steering wheel got tighter. He was not prepared to have this conversation now. He was irritated and hurt and his mind and heart were in a fierce battle and he was in no way, shape or form in the right state of mind to discuss this rationally or civilly with her.

"But it never is, Grissom! Can't you just, for once, give me an honest, straightforward answer?! You've never denied being attracted to me. Is the idea of loving me so repulsive that you won't even entertain the idea of trying?!"

He had a split seconds forethought to make sure there was no traffic behind them before he stomped on the brake and jerked the wheel, causing the Denali to veer sharply to the edge of the road. With a slam of his hand, he put the vehicle in park and turned in his seat to face her. "Has it _ever_ crossed your mind to look at this from where _I_ am, Sara, or is this relationship you want so badly truly revolving _only_ around _you_?! It must be an absurdly freeing relief to have it all worked out in your head!" he seethed. "You accuse me of thinking so little of you that I'm unwilling to entertain the thought of a relationship with you. How little must _you_ think of _me_ to believe I haven't given 'us' more hours of thought and deliberation than you could possibly imagine! That you think I haven't laid awake at night, considering all the possibilities and weighing them against what we stand to lose should it not turn out to be the happily ever after fairy tale you've made us into before we've ever even had a first date! Or that you honestly think that I haven't picked up the phone a hundred times to tell you how I feel but then I remember how hard you've worked to get to where you are professionally in a career that, lets face it, Sara, is still a very male dominated field! And that's not even touching on the reality that is me; Gruesome Grissom...the enigma wrapped in a mystery...the guy who can't even get through one dinner date without getting called away to a scene. And yes, I know that you of all people, would understand how time consuming and irregular our schedules can be, but that doesn't make it any more fair to either of us and if our relationship couldn't stand the strain of...whatever, then how is it going to be to work together? Do I leave shift? Do you move to another shift? Do one of us move to another city?!" He was nearly breathless from his outburst. But he forced himself to calm down, breathing slowly through his nose and counting in his head before he finished, "Now, can we do our jobs without taking cheap shots at each other and making this more of a strain? And before you get indignant, yes, I am including my own part in this situation and acknowledge my own immature behavior."

She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away to hide the tears in her eyes, but nodded her consent. A second later, gravel crunched under the tires as he pulled back onto the road. Sara remained silent, watching the dark shadows of the landscape pass by while his words paraded around in her mind.

They arrived to the usual scene; yellow crime tape to quardon off the perimeter, a smattering of officers standing around amidst police cars and emergency vehicles, all under the dappled flashing red and blue lights. They made their way to the front door. Pausing outside the door, Sara waited for Grissom's instructions. "Why don't you take overalls out here and I'll go inside, get some details and we'll go from there."

She nodded, uncapped the lense to the camera and set out for the far corner of the house. He went inside, in search of the lead detective.

"Vartann."

"Grissom. You solo tonight?"

"Sara's starting outside." The supervisor informed. "What have we got?"

"Well, I don't wanna rain on your science parade, but this seems pretty cut and dry."

Grissom arched a brow at the bold claim. Lou had to chuckle, knowing how much Grissom loved it when PD got ahead of the evidence. "You mind if we look around anyway?" Grissom asked flippantly. "Just to justify the mileage."

"Not a bit." Lou noted how unamused Grissom looked. "Listen, I'm not trying to get ahead of anything. I'm just saying we have an identified suspect in custody who also happens to have confessed to the murder. His statement correlates with what we can see of the victim and scene, as well as the statement of the only witness. May be an easy one."

"I guess we'll see. Has the suspect made an official statement?"

"Not yet."

"Alright. Can you send one of your guys out to tell Sara that when she finishes the perimeter, I want her to process the suspect and take his statement with one of your officers present?"

Vartann called one of his officers over and relayed Grissom's directions.

"Do we know where his point of entry was?" Grissom asked.

Lou flipped his notebook open. "Entered through the mudroom door, which he reported to have picked. He proceeded throught the living room and up the stairs to the master bathroom where he caught the victim by surprise in the shower, snuck up behind her and slit her throat. He then proceeded out the french doors in the bedroom and onto the balcony where he stayed hidden and waited to watch the homeowner discover the victim; according to him."

Grissom closed his eyes briefly. "Did he say if his plan was to harm the homeowner as well or was he merely a voyeur at this point?"

"He said, "I was waitin' to see the look on that no accounts face when he seen I took from him what used to be mine." "

"The victim was the suspect's wife?"

"Daughter." Lou corrected.

Grissom shook his head.

"I said it looked cut and dry. Never said it was black and white."

It was then that Sara came in. "Sara, the suspect entered through the mudroom door, according to his own report. He says he picked the lock to gain entry." Grissom looked to Vartann. "Has he been read his Miranda rights and been advised of his right to counsel yet?"

"Yep."

"Alright. Sara, process him and then I want the officer with you to read him his rights again and get that and his official statement on record. Video tape it, please, after he signs the waiver; I want no wiggle room here or any reason to have the Sheriff any more involved in this than he already is. After that, process the mudroom and his stated route through the house. Come find me when you're done. I'm going to interview and process the witness and then start processing the master bath and bedroom."

"Okay." she replied.

"And Sara."

She looked back at him, noting the softer expression on his face.

"Keep an officer with you every second you're with the suspect. We don't know how stable he is."

"Okay." She agreed.

"I mean it." He emphasized. "If the officer leaves for any reason-"

"I go with him. I've got it, Grissom. I promise." She assured him. She tried to hate his ability to be such an idiot one minute and then be so protective of her the next, but looking at those imploring, blue eyes made it hard.

She left to go find her cop shadow and Grissom and Vartann left to go process and interview the witness. Grissom entered a well kept study. The man sitting on a blanket draped over a leather chair looked out of place in the neat setting. He looked to be a little younger than Grissom, in his early forties maybe, the CSI guessed. He was clad in boxer shorts and a green t-shirt, all of which was covered in blood. The blood was almost dry, from the looks of it and starting to flake on his skin in some places. The man looked up with red, puffy, empty eyes as the men entered and Grissom could feel the pain virtually rolling off him in waves.

"Dr. Rashon, my name is Dr. Gil Grissom." He greeted as he approached. "I'm a Crime Scene Investigator with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I'm very sorry for your loss." He watched the man nod stoicly and then two tears slipped from his eyes and rushed down his cheeks as if even they wished for nothing more than to flee the pain. Grissom felt a growing pit of dread in his stomach as he looked to the grieving man before him. "Have you met Detective Vartann?"

"Ye-" Dr. Rashon cleared his throat. "Yes, we've met."

"Dr. Rashon, I need to process you and your clothing in order to rule you out as a suspect. Once that's done, sir, I'll take your statement of the..." He paused here. Typically he would refer to it as 'the event' but that seemed exceptionally cold in this moment and he couldn't bring himself to do it. "...of what happened. Is that alright with you?"

"I've already told Detective Vartann all that I know. Do I really need to...say it...all again?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Rashon-"

"Please, call me Steven. Dr. Rashon makes me feel like I'm lecturing."

"Alright. Your statement will help my colleague and I process more accurately and it gives us a clearer picture of what took place. There may also be questions I have that the detective didn't ask. I'm sorry to put you through that again, but it will help us find justice for-"

"Tessa." Rashon choked out. "Her name was Tessa."

"I'd like to find justice for Tessa."

Rashon nodded. Whatever you need to do, Dr. Grissom. Just take care of my Tessa." He broke down in tears once more. "She deserves that, at least."

 _ **~~CAOUT~~**_

Processing was finished and Dr. Rashon was able to get cleaned up a bit in a utility sink downstairs once Grissom had lifted prints and cleared it for any evidence. Now in a standard issued jumpsuit, Grissom was ready to begin the interview.

"Dr. Grissom, would it be possible to do this out on the patio?" It was one of the first things Steven had said since the physical processing had begun. "I could really do with some fresh air."

Grissom looked to Lou to make sure the detective didn't find issue with the request. Vartann shrugged, indicating that he didn't see a problem with it. "Certainly. Why don't you lead the way."

Passing by the mudroom, Grissom glanced in to see Sara dusting the interior door handle. He couldn't help but admire her slender frame as she worked with the same diligent concentration she brought to every scene. There was beauty ensconced within beauty.

Once on the patio, they sat and Grissom was preparing to begin when Steven's eyes were drawn past him. The mixture of love and loss expressed on his face made Grissom turn.

"Her lillies. I don't have a green thumb; not even a green pinkie. I retain a landscaper to take care of my lawn and things, but Tessa insisted that a flower as beautiful as the lilly deserved personal care and attention. She bought them on a Saturday and on the following Sunday, we planted them together. I can still feel her hands in mine; guiding, teaching me as she did in so many ways. You would think being so much older than she, that I would be the teacher. I am by profession, as you know, and for many, many years I believed teaching literature would be my one and only love, but God knew better and he sent an angel to teach the teacher his most valuable lesson." Eyes full of tears and a pain that rose off him in waves, Steven looked Grissom dead in the eyes. "My life began the day I met my wife."

Grissom was visibly startled. He blinked, looking from the professor to Vartann. Vartann shrugged, his confusion confirmed with the movement.

"I'm sorry, Steven, did you say your wife? Tessa was your wife?" He could feel his chest contrict with this new information.

Now Steven looked a bit startled. "Yes. I didn't say that before?"

"No, sir."

"Forgive me, gentlemen. It wasn't my intention to withold information or to deceive you." He looked down to his hand with a sad smile. "We've been married a very short time and we agreed to keep it a secret until she had graduated. We didn't even wear our rings at home because she said that if we put them on, she wouldn't be able to bear taking them off again. We hated keeping it a secret but we thought it best for the time being." Fresh tears streamed down his face. "You've no idea how I dreamed of introducing her as my wife. And now, I'll never get that chance."

Unbeknownst to any of them, Sara stood, hidden in the shadows of the tall bushes lining the patio. She'd finished the mudroom and had gone in search of Grissom to find out if he wanted her to get started on the master bath. Officer Melton had directed her to the patio when she'd inquired as to their whereabouts. So, she'd made a quick stop at the Denali to secure the evidence she'd collected so far and had decided to reach the patio by going around the outside of the house.

Years of experience had taught Sara to asses what stage the interview was in before interrrupting whenever possible. She knew ill timing could alter the outcome in some cases, so she approached quietly. As she paused to listen, she caught sight of Grissom's face and she froze. She'd never seen him look so engaged with a witness before. Focused, yes, he always was, but this was empathy to a degree in Grissom she'd never thought him capable of. He didn't identify like this, and it paralyzed her with it's raw, emotional power as she focused on what was being said.

"I am so very sorry, Steven. Please, would you tell me what happened?" Grissom implored.

"Where should I begin?"

"The beginning, please."

"She was an office intern, at the end of her junior year. My regular intern had a family emergency and had to leave just before the start of the end term. I tried to get through the last term without anyone but it was proving too much for myself and my secretary." Steven began, the look in his eyes clearly conveying that he wasn't on the patio anymore, at least not in his mind.

"The beginning of tonight's incident, please, Dr. Rashon." Vartann tried to redirect.

"Oh." Steven met Grissom's eyes, sadness washing over his entire being. "Of course. I apologize."

Grissom turned a scolding eye on Vartann, who lifted his hands as if to say, "What? I'm trying to keep him on point." Grissom turned back to Steven and gently prodded, "Please go on, Steven, _wherever_ you want to begin is fine."

"I was a satisfied man, Dr. Grissom, or at least that's what I told myself. I was well known and respected in my field and in my department. I am proud of the fact that I'm a positive contributor to society and I love educating students, but I'm not an easy man to know. I have a tendency to be rather private. I have close acquaintances and valued colleagues, but I can count on one hand the number of true friends I have and I can tell you that I have plenty of fingers left over when I'm done. I was content enough in my work that I had convinced myself that it was all I needed in order to be happy. I told myself that not all men were meant to have an all consuming love..." His eyes closed and tears found their way through his lashes.

Grissom's gut clenched painfully and he was finding it nearly impossible to breath.

Steven's eyes opened again and he smiled through the tears running down his face. "And then she walked into my office and my life changed irrevocably."

Grissom had a flash of a tall brunette; a stunning young woman with a ponytail and an absurd amount of questions.

"Her smile. Her laugh. The passion she had for literature and for life. Once my heart saw these things, I couldn't ignore it. We had to be so careful; never to allow a showing of affection at the university and she could never be in any of my classes, but any sacrifice was worth it. Her love was the greatest gift. She was my everything. She taught me to live and to love. I hesitated but a brief moment to love her and it consoles me now. I loved her without regret or reservation and I was loved the same way in return."

Without his knowledge or his consent, tears welled inGrissom's eyes. He closed them to the painful mirror he sawbetween their lives and willed the soul deep ache in his chest to let him breath again.

Steven went on to tell them how he and Tessa had planned to be married after her graduation and how her father had learned of their relationship. He told them how their relationship had infuriated her father and he'd attempted to get Steven fired, but since Tessa was nineteen when they began their relationship and she was not one of Steven's students, nothing could be done. There had been some unrest over it at the University, but Steven's impeccable reputation disspelled any real fallout and the couple loved each other through the petty remarks and any standoffish behavior. But things at home grew increasingly aggressive for Tessa; her father dolling out relentless verbal abuse, taking his anger over Tessa's mother leaving him for another man out on Tessa until she and Steven had decided that Tessa needed to get out of there sooner rather than later. "We'd planned a beautiful wedding for a week after her graduation, but we moved the wedding up and went to a chapel on the strip." He smiled a little sheepishly. "Tessa was a very religious woman. She fervently believed in saving herself until she was married and she wouldn't even move in with me until we were married, even to stay in seperate rooms." He smiled lovingly, "My Tessa, though young, had a beautiful conviction." he explained. He went on to tell them about how neither of them ever saw her father, but that they both had felt they were being watched. Then tonight, Steven had gone down to the kitchen to make them a late dinner while Tessa showered upstairs. He'd heard nothing and gone up to find his wife propped against the shower wall with her throat slashed. He'd done everything he could, calling for help even though he knew she was gone. He'd held her until the police and ambulance crew had arrived.

It had been shortly after that, Clarence Hobart had been found sitting on the balcony, fifteen feet from where Steven had held the man's dead daughter in his arms. He'd not seemed at all interested in trying to get away or in denying his guilt. He seemed to want nothing more than to watch Steven's pain.

 **~~CAOUT~~**

Grissom was exhausted, physically and emotionally, as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. He wanted nothing more than to go home and try to get all that he was feeling out of his head. He entered the couples master bedroom to find Sara collecting hair from the floor beside the doors leading to the balcony.

"It's the right color to be Hobart's." She said quietly.

She'd never even looked up before she'd imparted the information. It struck Grissom hard how intimate that felt tonight. To know that, without looking, Sara had known it was him. It wasn't the first time she'd ever done it and he did the same with her. Somehow, they just sensed the others presence, but tonight...tonight it hit him square in the stomach like a two ton boulder how attuned to one another they were.

"I know you said to come find you, but you were...busy and I just thought I'd work until you joined me. We'll get out of here sooner this way and it's been a long shift."

Not once did she stop working or look at him. His stomach churned a little, assuming she was still upset with him over all that had happened between them in the last two days, more than likely having to do, most recently, with his outburst in the Denali on the way here. That thought tore at him even more. It was like everything he'd been bottling up all these years had morphed into an angry beast that wouldn't rest until it had torn free of the cage he kept it in. So, he did the only thing he could think to do in their work situation to try to mend some of what was broken between them. "Thank you. I'm...thankful...for _you,_ Sara."

She did look up then, surprised, finally giving him a soft smile that let him know that things may not be right between them yet but it wasn't all wrong either. "Thank you for that." Her smile grew and she watched his eyes lighten a bit. "It's been a long night, Griss. Let's finish this up and get out of here."

He smiled back and nodded, easing into a routine with her. If it weren't for the battle that was warring inside him, he would have enjoyed it.

 _ **~~CAOUT~~**_

Four hours later, the case was closed. Clarence Hobart was locked behind bars for the murder of his only daughter. He would await trial for sentencing, but it all appeared to be a matter of technicalities. The evidence was solid and damning; everything conclusive and made even more so by Hobart's statement professing his own guilt. All that remained now was for Steven to lay Tessa to rest and undergo the seemingly insurmountable task of moving on with his life.

As Grissom tidied up his desk, he wondered how one went back to living after loving that way. It was one of the questions that kept him rooted him in the life he lived...or existed in; once he knew what it would be like to love Sara without boundaries or borders, to have her in his life totally, how could he ever survive if he lost her? The thought terrified him. With a soul deep sigh, he turned off his desk lamp and looked up to his office door, missing the silhouette of the young woman that usually graced his doorway at the end of shift. But then, they'd pulled a shift and a half today and considering the strain between them, he shouldn't have expected her. It hadn't really been an expectation so much as it had been a hope. He'd come to realize awhile ago that end of shift didn't feel right without Sara popping by to say goodnight. On her days off, he left the lab feeling even more lonely than usual for having not heard her voice.

His doorway remained empty and rather than torture himself further, he grabbed his keys and attache', took one last hopeful look down the hallway and then closed and locked his office door before leaving the lab with a much heavier heart than usual.

Sara finished tieing her sneakers and sat upright on the locker room bench. Steven's story and the look on Grissom's face as he'd listened ran in a loop through her tired mind. The tears she'd watched him fight back as well as his heated outburst in the Denali, haunted her, making her heart ache more than she thought it could. She'd always imagined nothing could hurt more than knowing he wasn't willing to take the risk on her, but today she'd learned differently; understanding how much it hurt _him_ _not_ to take the risk he wanted to hurt so much more. For the first time, instead of hurting _because_ of him, she hurt _for_ him.

She wiped her eyes and looked at the clock above the door. She sprang to her feet and grabbed her bag when she saw the time. She'd been sitting there, lost in her thoughts, for twenty minutes! They'd come back from PD and he'd headed right for his office, commenting on getting a few things organized and then he was heading home for a few hours sleep before they had to be back in. He'd looked sincere when he'd told her he hoped she'd do the same. _"Going home for some sleep, not straightening up my desk."_ He'd said softly, giving her a tired, half smile.

She rushed down the hall and her heart dropped when she saw that his office door was closed and she couldn't see any light coming from beneath it. He could be using his desk lamp, she thought, hoping against hope. She reached his door but it was locked and she panicked a little when the knob remained stiff in her already shaking hand. She'd really wanted to catch him before he left. She _needed_ to tell him that she understood now, maybe not entirely, but she finally could see it from his perspective. She didn't want to wait, because she was scared she'd lose her nerve, and this was important. After all the attitude and accusations she'd fired at him, he deserved to hear this from her.

She ran back down the hall. "Judy! Did Dr. Grissom leave for the day?"

"Oh hey, Sara. He left..." the friendly woman took her time checking the clock, somehow missing the urgency coming off Sara like a tidal wave. "maybe two, three minutes ago. You might be able-" Sara sprinted toward the door. She could catch him if she hurried.

As she ran into the parking garage, she frantically scanned the lot for his Mercedes. There. She breathed a sigh of relief as her eyes landed on the high end machine. She forced herself to walk to his car. As she approached, she could see that his head was leaned back against his headrest and his eyes were closed. She was about to go to his side to knock on the window, but changed her mind. She really didn't want to stand outside his window and say what she had to say. This was extremely personal and it would feel too awkward, plus she didn't want to risk being overheard.

He jumped when someone tapped on the window. By instinct, he looked to his side first but no one was there. For a split second, he contemplated the chances that he'd fallen asleep and dreamed it. The thought was quickly dismissed when a second knock followed, drawing his attention across the car. He blinked in disbelief, but rolled the window down for Sara.

"Hey. Glad I caught you. Can you, ah...Can I get in a minute?"

He unlocked the door and watched, a little bewildered, as she got in and shut the door behind her.

"Hi." She greeted tentatively.

"Hello." He replied just as tentatively. Maybe he _had_ fallen asleep and the reoccuring dream he had that Sara left work with him in the mornings was the explanantion for this.

"I...wanted to catch you before you left."

"I gathered that." He answered. This was no dream. Sara was nervous. She was on the verge of rambling and she was repeating herself, two sure fire giveaways that she was nervous. "What is it, Sara? Did we forget anything?"

She fiddled with her fingernails. "I..." She looked up, first straight out the windshield and then at him. "Griss..."

He noted the trepidation in her voice, but even stronger to him right now was the use of his shortened surname for the second time today. She never called him "Griss" when she was upset with him, and that eased his mind a little; and at the same time it made his pulse race.

Literally, in the blink of an eye, he watched that fierce look of determination he loved take root in her chocolate colored eyes.

"You asked me earlier if I'd ever looked at us from where you are and..." She faltered, regrouping and then plunging forward again, "I would have told you I had if I'd given you an answer at all. Honestly, Griss, I thought I had, for the most part, but I...I didn't want to see." She could feel the tears and her first instinct was to hide them, but then she remembered his tears and that made her brave. "I love you." She said so softly he almost missed it. "I didn't want to accept any reality where I didn't eventually have you. All it really came down to in my mind was that I loved you enough to try and you didn't and that...I was so wrong." Those last words slipped out on a sob. "I saw how much it hurts you...today. I could see it." She cried, tears falling down her cheeks freely. "I don't know if I'll ever understand entirely because I'm not you and I will _always_ love you, but I won't push anymore." Her voice shook as she reached up to touch his face and then pulled back as she realized what it could mean if she was seen. It was bad enough she was sitting in his car at work. "I don't want you to hurt anymore." The tears were rushing down now and she couldn't have stopped them if her life had depended on it. That famous quote repeating itself in her head, 'If you love someone, let them go.' "It's okay, Griss." She whispered.

"Sara..." His own voice cracked under the emotion. He felt frozen in this moment, almost like he was watching it happen from outside his body. He'd never been more sure then now...this was NOT a dream. No dream he'd ever had ended this way; nightmares maybe, but never his dreams.

And without another word, she opened his door and slipped out; running to her car and fumbling her way inside. She knew she shouldn't drive like this, but she had to leave before the selfish part of her breaking heart took it all back and begged him to give them a chance. So, through the blur of her tears, Sara drove out of the parking lot and into the Vegas sun, leaving Grissom and all her dreams of a happy life of love with him behind in a dark parking garage.

 _ **~~CAOUT~~**_

He was on an incredible roll today. Starting at a crime scene, and then sitting in his car after Sara left him and now, laying in his bed and staring up at the ceiling. Tears ran from the corners of his eyes and into his ears and he didn't care.

She'd let him go. And it hurt as much, he thought, as it would have if she'd left him. "How would you know, you idiot! You never knew what it felt like to really have her love. Never knew what it felt like to love her back openly!" He yelled to the empty room. Empty room...empty house...empty life...empty heart! " _I loved her without regret or reservation...I hesitated but a brief moment to love her and it consoles me now_." Steven Rashon's words haunted him, and how fitting that they should in this cold, lonely, dark...empty house surrounded by the ghosts of all that might have been with Sara.

He had nothing but regrets and reservations. His hesitation had lasted for years and there was nothing, _nothing_ , to console him now!

As he recalled her hand earlier, reaching out to touch him, even in the midst of her own heartache...he ached with such immeasurable pain of his own that he wondered if it might not actually kill him.

He threw back the covers and bolted from his bed, grabbing clothes and throwing them on in haste. He would _not_ lose what he hadn't even had yet!

He drove, barely under the speed limit, contemplating stopping for flowers or chocolates, but he couldn't make himself stop for anything beyond stop signs, red lights and pedestrians in order to get to her more quickly. All the fears he'd had about this suddenly didn't matter in the bright, illuminating light of never knowing what it meant to love and be loved by the one person you were meant for and deep in his heart he knew that person for him was Sara. Today he'd met a man on the worst day of his life and while no one could question or argue the outstanding pain and grief Steven was feeling, he was able to smile through his tears because of the love he'd shared with his wife.

In these last few hours, Grissom had felt nothing but immense pain; soul crushing pain, with nothing to console him. He'd loved a woman silently for years; unsatisfied, cowardly and never with the freedom of his whole heart. Her goodbye told him he could not...would not, survive the regret it bore.

 _ **~~CAOUT~~**_

She flipped her pillow over again, adjusting until she found a spot that wasn't damp already. She'd told herself she wasn't going to cry all night. She'd told herself that she'd shed enough tears over the years. But this was different. Every time before now, she had felt such anger along with the heartache of not having him. She'd resigned herself many times in the past to letting him go, but tonight was the first time she knew in her heart that she really had to; for both their sakes. So, these weren't the emotions that came from frustration and rejection, made only slightly less painful with the comfort that comes with anger at him for not being brave enough to at least try. This...this was the soul searing heartbreak that came with letting go of the only man you'd ever truly loved and trying desperately to tell yourself that, "Yes, I can see him nearly every day and work side by side with him without coming home and repeating this each day. It will get easier with time"

She kept hoping that she would fall into a dreamless sleep to wake in a few hours with a fearless resolution to get on with her life and be the best friend he'd ever had. She was so focused on trying to fall asleep that when there came a pounding on her door, she wasn't prepared and nearly fell out of bed. She stared down the hall from her place in her bed. She was in no mood to get up and she absolutely had no desire to see anyone, especially no one in a mood to pound on her door like that. She thought about not answering, but then thought about her neighbors and decided that answering the door would be easier than dealing with disgruntled neighbors for the next week.

She slipped on a pair of shorts with her tee and quickly padded barefoot to the door. She was just about to check her peephole when another healthy round of pounding reverberated through her door. She unlocked and yanked open her door, ready to give whoever was on the other side a piece of her mind, but she froze when she saw just who was responsible for the ruckus.

"Grissom?" She blinked and looked down the hallway, for who or what, she wasn't sure.

"I need to talk to you." He announced simply, but she noticed his voice was shaky and sounded somewhat strained.

"Uh...sure. Come in." She stammered, stepping back to allow him in.

He came in and stopped just on the other side of the door, shutting it behind him. He found himself at a loss for words, mesmerized by the simple beauty and domesticity of this moment, Sara in her sleep attire; barefoot with tossled hair. His chest swelled with love and a desire to have this to come home to.

She couldn't imagine what would bring him to her apartment at this time, especially given what she'd told him hours earlier and it was unnerving her. "Griss?"

Her saying his name broke his focus and he looked up into her red, puffy eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I..." He looked at her, looked down and then looked around her living room. He didn't know where to start. All the things he'd ever wanted to tell her felt poised on the tip of his tongue and yet not a single word found it's way out of his mouth...as usual.

He settled his gaze back on her face and of all the things on his mind and in his heart, what he said was, "Your list. It's not complete."

"My list?" Her head hurt, her heart hurt and her eyes felt dry and irritated; a verbal riddle from him was not what she needed right now.

"The other night." He said; his voice soft and shy at first and then building in strength as his confidence began to grow. He was finally doing this. "You requested that I kiss you, give you Midol and chocolate or get out of your way."

She blinked heavily at him, still unsure why he would drive to her apartment to recap what was now one of the most embarrassing tirades she'd ever had.

He stepped closer. "I got out of your way, Sara, last night and a hundred other times I shouldn't have. And we know where your Midol and chocolates are, though the Midol should have been nestled in a box of decadent truffles made with the sweetest chocolate because you deserve the best." He told her tenderly. The look in his eyes as he took another step toward her was making her heart race uncontrollably. "So," he swallowed past the lump in his throat. "All that's left is that kiss."

Her knees hit the arm of the couch and she sat down hard, never taking her eyes off him as he slowly bent toward her. "But...you...I said..." She stammered, eyes darting from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips.

He could feel his heart jump to his throat when she wet her lips, her eyes fluttering and closing as he leaned in. "When someone makes a simple request, Sara, you do your best to fulfill that request. Especially," he whispered as he lowered his mouth to hers, stopping just as they brushed. "when you love that person as much as I love you."

Her eyes snapped open in surprise and she found herself looking into the most certain, loving, beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen. "You..."

"You know I do. I love you and I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to get where I need to be." He cupped her face with both hands, gently tilting her face up to his. "I don't want to be let go of, certainly not before we've had the chance to love each other and if I get a say in this, not ever. Never let me go, honey, and I promise I'll do my best to never make you want to."

"Never." She whimpered, aching for him to close that barely there distance between them once and for all.

And he did, not two breaths later. His lips touched hers, softly caressing until she felt his tongue brush over her bottom lip. She buried her fingers in his curls and deepened the kiss with every ounce of longing she'd felt over the years.

That kiss was only the first of many over the next fourteen months, ending only when they shared a new first kiss; their first as husband and wife. And he did bring her Midol with truffles every month until a Thursday in August, when he received a gift from her instead; a plus sign in the window of a test stick. Nine months and three days later, very nearly to the hour, Harper Iris Grissom was born and Gilbert fell completely in love for the second time in his life...this time he wasted no time in handing his heart over.

 **THE END**


End file.
